Skip to main content

What's Wrong With Porn?

I've been criticized, parodied, given a sarcastic moniker--"the prince"--and now I'm being asked to participate in this year-long stream-of-consciousness rant.

Given the readers of this blog no doubt also identify as "mothers on the verge," I can't imagine anyone here will have much interest in, say, the trick of keeping some semblance of male-ness in the Rite Aid while shopping for feminine hygiene products.

Get ready MM and YLM, the site stats are about to take a plunge.

Like Alpha Male, I'm a man living in a household of women. Unlike Alpha Male, it's still a one vs. two situation gender-wise. I bow down to AM for keeping it semi-together in a three-girl household. We'll go on a man-date later.

In a nutshell, here's what MM can't stand about me: I don't do enough housework. I don't "see" the things that need to be done. I'm not nice enough on the phone when MM calls me to "talk" during the day. I don't call the babysitter or plan any dates. I've stuck MM in Manhattan 3,000 miles away from her oh-so-supportive family. I'm unromantic. I went for a grope in the fitting room at Bloomingdales. I'm a thoughtless pig. Fox Soccer Channel.

I looked over the bylaws for the coming week and one thing stands out. Why did "porn" figure into two of 10 rules? I mean, what's with that obsession? One would think anything that diminishes the apparent burden of male libido would be welcomed, nay encouraged.

Well, AM, the blog is ours for the week. Let's make the most of it.

Comments

Kate B. said…
MM are we allowed to comment on Alpha and P's posts or is that cheating?
Jill said…
Sigh. Well if you aren't good for romance and housework can you at least lift heavy things? Because some days that's the reason I cite for keeping a man around the house. The lifting.

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...) Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

A thought

Perhaps sometimes a gift can be delivered in the guise of a tragedy. It's just a matter of perception, after all. I suspect that the talent lies in looking beyond the surface to what lies beneath and beyond. And, of course, being able to make sense of it all and going on to apply that knowledge to building a productive way forward. Here's hoping.

It's my party and I'll cry if I want to

A friend recently emailed me to say that her big memory of her stay with us last year is that she had a great birthday, one of the few where she didn't 'act like a spoiled grumpy princess'. She tried to give me all the credit but as I explained to her, it was all down to having a fellow female organising the birthday fun rather than leaving it to her partner. Her email got me thinking about birthdays and how very different men and women are in their attitudes to celebrating special occasions. It also had me thinking about my birthday two years ago when I threw a major tantrum in the Carrefour car-park after being told that we were off to do the weekly shop, kids in tow, which was simply the final straw at the end of a very uninspiring day. In contrast, my birthday last year was rather lovely (a morning on my own in a spa with no mobile coverage, pure selfish bliss). This year - in a few short months, eek! - I'll be hitting the grand old age of 38. This will be my las...